


Cousins

by ZootyCutie



Category: Homestar Runner
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 13:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZootyCutie/pseuds/ZootyCutie
Summary: A young girl shows up in Free Country, only knowing one location to go. However, can a girl like her change the steeliest of people: her cousin?





	Cousins

**Author's Note:**

> So, Homestar Runner has been one of my earliest “major fandoms” that I got into. As such, the series was one of the first ones that I’ve drawn original characters for. I feel like I’ve been neglecting these characters for a while, and, after getting back into the franchise and binging it, I was inspired to create this fanfiction. Homestar Runner is owned by The Brothers Chaps, and I own the Archer and her immediate family, along with Downhome and Patsy. Enjoy!

A throwing spear flew through the air. Crafted with care, the dark brown wood handle attached to the shiny and pointed metal tip. As the wind wooshed around it, the weapon aimed for the sandbag tied up against a tree branch, a hastily painted red target painted on the tan burlap. Speeding up faster and faster by the second, the spear went further and further, closer and closer towards its target…

…And fell short. Not by mere inches, but by multiple feet. Its tip instead embedded into the grass, next to multiple marks that revealed lifted-up dirt around the makeshift target, signifying the same fate. Soon, the sound of clanking metal filled the air, as the King of Town’s Knight rushed over to the site of the target, yanking the spear out of the ground with a mighty heft.

“That was an even closer one!” He called out, pointing the spear in the general direction of the castle, his visor clanking up and down when he spoke like it always did, as dirt clods and grass blades fell off of the tip of the blade. “Rate that one, one out of ten. How was that one?”

Sitting on the greens in front of the castle, a few feet away from the near-empty moat, yet a good distance from the Poopsmith’s whatsit pile, was the King’s Hornblower. At the moment, he was currently writing something into what appeared to be a journal of sorts. Which, of course, meant he was facing downwards, not looking at the Knight.

“Oh, yeah.” He dryly mumbled, transferring the pen in his hand to the hand holding onto the journal’s cover to give a half-hearted thumbs up that he quickly dropped. “Yeah, great. That’s was…yeah.”

“You could at least make an effort to pretend you don’t care!” the Knight angrily sighed, walking towards the Hornblower and sitting next to him, attempting to get a look in the journal. “So, whatcha even doing? You know we’re supposed to be working, right?”

“I AM working.” The Hornblower defensively said, hiding the book from the Knight and leaning back from him. “I’m working on a new song for the court, because I don’t have to present anyone at the moment. But hey, at least I’m doing something that’s related to the pressing issues of my job right now!”

“What?!” The Knight angrily asked, leaping up. “I’m doing my job, too! It is my duty as the King’s bodyguard to stay ever vigilant and alert, waiting for anyone that dares to attack him!”

“Is that why you’re here and not taking care of Strong Bad hassling him right now?” The Hornblower snarked, jerking a thumb into the general direction of the middle Brother Strong, who was with The Cheat, and was, indeed, hassling the King of Town.

“Hey, you guys can’t do that!” The Knight called out, running towards the King, as the Hornblower sighed in slightly exasperated embarrassment, returning to his writing. 

\---

“…So, if you just sign here, along with the deets of your credit card, your social security number, and the passwords to any secretive vaults that are located in the castle, your shipment should arrive in…twelve weeks.”

“Hmm…now, normally I wouldn’t wait this long for an order of a single rice cracker that you found under your couch. But that free shipping option is sure looking promising!”

Just as the King was starting to put the pen to the paper and scrawl something out, a wall of blue metal stepped in front of him and the sheet.

“Hello?!” Strong Bad questioned, sounding somewhat offended. “We’re trying to make an offer here, soup can! So if you could just move away, that would be awesome.”

“I’m pretty sure you two are in contempt of so many laws right now!” The Knight said, poking at the paper and spearing it on his spear as if he was picking up litter. “Just say the word, sire, and I can totally arrest these guys for you! Or execute them. Or arrest them and then execute them! Or, maybe I could execute them first and then arrest their bodies. Or perhaps--”

“Uh, not to interrupt, but I think your “sire” is leaving.” Strong Bad dryly said, gesturing towards the area behind where the Knight stood, as the soldier turned around.

What Strong Bad was saying was truly ringing true. The King of Town, who was either annoyed, distracted, or just hungry, had started walking away from the conversation, and instead was walking back towards the castle. 

“Y-your Majesty!” The Knight stuttered, running towards the King in an attempt to catch up. “Wait for me!”

“Come on, The Cheat.” Strong Bad said, watching the two leave. “Maybe Homestar will fall for this scam better.”

\---

“Grumble, grumble, lost my chance at that deal…”

“Sir, please!”

As the King continued to walk towards the castle, muttering to himself, the Knight attempted to run towards him. Either the King was getting fitter or the armor was slowing down his movements, but the ruler seemed to be further away from him than he truly appreciated.

Meanwhile, the Hornblower was still in the fields, finishing writing in the journal using the last of the fading light of the sunset. As he slammed it shut, he peered up, noticing his King and the Knight heading towards the castle. Despite the lack of a mouth on his face, there was an aura of a smug grin there, as he stood up.

“Greetings, your Majesty.” He grinned, bowing, as the King passed him by, still grumbling. However, when the Knight managed to catch up, he quickly stopped him. “Slow down, man. So, how’d that “bodyguarding” go?”

“Fine! It went fine!” The Knight said, angrily protesting, as the Hornblower pulled off the sheet of paper that was still stuck to his spear, perusing it over.

“Well, you certainly saved us.” The Hornblower snarked, the smug grin aura still lingering. “I mean, if the King even knew the information possible for this form to even work. You do realize we don’t give him this kind of info on purpose? Besides, he started writing “butter” as his credit card number.”

“I have to be prepared for anything!” The Knight protested, angrily swiping the paper and tearing it to shreds. “If something catastrophic and unexpected happens to anything or anyone in the castle, it’s my duty to be prepared! Heck, I’d even stretch my neck out for you if you needed protection!”

“You’re too kind.” The Hornblower dryly said, watching the confetti of paper pieces fall down. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather not take my chances with a person that kills dragons because they hit the wrong spot on its stomach, only to be crushed by said dragon.”

“That was one time!” The Knight rebutted. “One. Time!”

“Still one time more that you were crushed by a dragon than everyone else here!” The Hornblower threw back.

“You know what? Fine!” The Knight said, turning back towards the sandbag target, and prepping to aim his spear. “I’ll prove it! Watch! This’ll be the money shot!”

With as determined as a face that could be made out from his visor, the Knight braced himself on the ground, his toes curling into the grass. The wind slowly blew through the air, rippling the American flag that topped his armor, while also blowing the dirt and grass pieces that had been uprooted from previous attempts in the air, along with the rancid smell of whatsit coming from the Poopsmith’s pile, which was currently being dug through by its owner.

Taking a deep breath, he hurled the spear towards the target. Soaring like a jet, the spear went stronger and faster towards its target than ever before. Spinning like a drill in the air, it once again went closer and closer…

And plummeted. Not even digging itself into the ground via its tip this time, it fell like a sack of bricks. If the Knight’s visor could mimic his jaw dropping in pure shocked silence, it would. Meanwhile, the Hornblower was absolutely losing it. Cheeks turning slightly red and tears welling up in his eyes, he was madly cackling, crouching over to attempt to catch his breath. This also brought the attention of the Poopsmith, who had stopped working and was now staring at the commotion from his pile.

“That’s not fair!” The Knight protested, though it sounded like he was trying to pull something out of thin air as an excuse. “I was, uh, too far away! Yeah, that’s it! I mean, no one could hit it from this point or farther! It’s all about distance, you know!”

“Uh-huh.” The Hornblower said, composing himself and wiping his eyes. “Sure. That’s exactly the reason.”

Unexpectedly, the Hornblower then turned around towards the Poopsmith, who was still looking towards them in slight confusion.

“Hey, Poopsmith! Why don’t you give a crack at it? Think you can hit it from over there?” He called out towards the Poopsmith, pointing towards the target.

“Heh, fat chance!” The Knight smugly said. “I mean, I’m the personal bodyguard of the King, and I couldn’t make it from here, so why do you think he could make it from--”

Cutting off the Knight was a loud and squelchy noise. Turning towards the target revealed a splatter of whatsit smeared onto the now-rocking sandbag, flies swarming it. Flickers of the foul substance dripped off the sandbag onto the ground, with the splatter gaining such distance that a few droplets hit the spear that was a distance away. And all through this, was the Poopsmith, still in the exact same location as he was, only with his shovel poised in a throwing position.

“I rest my case.” The Hornblower said, patting the Knight where his shoulder would be with a few empty clanks, as he and the Poopsmith left their locations to walk into the castle, leaving the Knight to stare in pure disbelief at the results as the sun continued to drop in the horizon.

\---

“YOU’RE RUINING MY CRED HERE!”

Jolting the scene of the castle interior about a half hour later was the Knight. Slamming open the door to the castle and yelling in the open foyer was one way to bring attention to yourself. Holding onto his still-speckled spear and storming into the room, he quickly broke up any means of conversation that was going on.

Inside the foyer was the remainder of the King’s servants, minus the leader himself. Whatever they were doing before, be it a conversation or a game, or whatever it was, was now rudely interrupted, with all eyes on the Knight.

“I wasn’t aware you even had any “cred”.” The Hornblower said, creating air quotes, while his smug smirk aura glowed again.

“You wipe that lack-of-a-smirk off your face!” The Knight angrily said, pointing the spear in the Hornblower’s general direction, which caused him to turn slightly green and lean backwards. “You and your ability to make air quotes! And you!”

Without warning, the Knight suddenly turned towards the Poopsmith, pointing the spear in his direction, causing the crap shoveler to cock an eyebrow in confusion.

“Bodyguardin’ is my job! You and your fancy schmancy whatsit-throwing tricks might be fun at a party, but I’m the King’s protector here! Oh, and you owe me a new target. I worked hard on that!”

“A whole three minutes.” The Blacksmith suddenly mumbled, causing a few snickers.

“I heard that!” The Knight angrily added, twirling around again, giving his spear a new target to point at. “For your information, it was FOUR minutes. And I think I did a pretty good job!”

“Listen.” The Cleric suddenly added, standing up, while also attempting to avoid the still-covered spear. “You want the King to believe in you? You gotta prove it.”

The Cleric then opened up his scroll, which somehow had a list already scrawled onto it.

“You might think you’re protecting the King, but from what I’ve got here, the Poopsmith’s done more. I mean, you’re not even a part of the King’s army, shouldn’t that be the major part of being his bodyguard?”

“Were you even knighted?” The Chef added, standing up, brandishing his knife like a makeshift sword. “Or did you just buy that thing at a costume store and demand people take you seriously as a knight?”

“Do you even take that thing off?” The Hornblower also added, standing up as well, tapping at the Knight’s armor. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that armor, it has to smell like death in there!”

“This isn’t “interrogate me” time!” The Knight angrily protested. “What’s it going to take for you guys to believe that I’m capable? Do I have to suddenly mature into a responsible person?”

“Would be appreciated if you did!” The Hornblower said, his eyes clearly showing a grin on his face.

“That was rhetorical.” The Knight sighed in irritation. “Besides, it’s not like a chance for me to grow into responsibility is going to come knocking on the door!”

As the Knight brandished his spear towards the door, the others turned towards the door, anticipating something to happen. However, everything stayed quiet.

“…Were you guys seriously expecting something to happen?!” The Knight protested, pulling his spear away from the door’s direction and facing the others. “I’m me, and none of you guys can change me at all!”

Without warning, a small, yet repeated, knock rapped on the door, causing everyone in the room to turn back towards it.

“I guess fate is a little later than usual this time of night.” The Hornblower said.

“That’s your cue to open the door.” The Chef added, as the Knight made, what seemed like a scowl towards him.

“Sure, I’m the one that gets the door, because that’s my job!” The Knight said, an angry mocking tone in his voice. “I’m the doorman now, not the King’s bodyguard, that’s the easier job for me!”

“Just…open it.” The Blacksmith sighed, pressing a hand onto his mask like he was rubbing his temples.

“Fine, fine, fine.” The Knight rapidly said, the air of annoyance still lingering in his voice, as he walked towards the door and opened it, looking forwards. “Oh, fate, what have you bestowed on me this night?”

Looking forwards revealed nothing, causing him to turn towards the others.

“Ya see? Fate’s not gonna shine down on me tonight!”

“Look lower, dingus.” The Hornblower said, pointing towards the floor.

“Fine, I’ll “look lower”.” The Knight said, sounding like he was making air quotes. “But I don’t see what--”

Staring the Knight in his lack of eyes was now a young girl. Sharing the paper white skin that a majority of the town had, two small orbs floated in front of her, signifying hands attached to nothing. She had bright green eyes, one covered up by silver hair that should be where her shoulders ended. She was wearing a simple orange dress with a red bandanna tied around her neck. A dark green bycocket hat with a small red feather topped her head, with an empty brown quiver strapped around her. Loaded with her were multiple bags and suitcases, along with a strung bow held in her hands, which she wrung together in shyness.

“Um…” She asked, sounding quiet and confused. “Are you my cousin?”


End file.
